


To be of use

by What_a_mess (Myself)



Series: The Cobbler Verse [2]
Category: Longmire (TV), Walt Longmire Mysteries - Craig Johnson
Genre: Crushes, Friendship, Gen, Language, Non-binary character, Original Character(s), Ruby is the best, Trans Character, peach cobbler is a love language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27115805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myself/pseuds/What_a_mess
Summary: It was nearly two in the morning when the call came in.  Being chief of police could have meant never taking a night shift on call (his predecessor certainly never had), but that was all the more reason why Mathias tried to lead by example, and tonight was his.  He had been lightly dozing in the cruiser for probably an hour, and had been hoping for a quiet night when the radio crackled.
Relationships: Mathias & Ruby (Longmire)
Series: The Cobbler Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980913
Comments: 15
Kudos: 14





	1. Late Call

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from Marge Piercy's [poem](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57673/to-be-of-use) of the same name.
> 
> Enormous and eternal thanks to Min for being an invaluable and deeply appreciated cheerleader, sounding board, and beta reader. 💛

It was nearly two in the morning when the call came in. Being chief of police could have meant never taking a night shift on call (his predecessor certainly never had), but that was all the more reason why Mathias tried to lead by example, so tonight was his shift. He had been lightly dozing in the cruiser for probably an hour, and had been hoping for a quiet night when the radio crackled.

“Hey, we just got a call from Tommy Proud Eagle—there’s some white kid parked in a car near his place. He said the car has been there with the dome light on for over half an hour. You anywhere near there?”

He scrubbed a tired hand over his face and reached for the car radio to reply. “Yeah, I can be there in about 10 minutes. Let him know I’m on my way,” he said, and then started the car. Hopefully this wouldn’t end up taking half the night, but with his luck recently with white people pulling stupid shit on the Rez, who knew.

When he got within sight of Tommy’s house, he could see the vehicle too. It was a beat up SUV about 15 years old, and he could see the dome light spotlighting some blue or green dyed hair. Mathias parked across the street and wearily levered himself out to go tap on the driver’s window.

The driver jerked in surprise and he could hear a muffled curse through the window before it whirred creakily down.

“Bit late to be out here,” he drawled.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” came the choked reply. Mathias leaned back and down to see into the car better, and was met with the splotchy red face of a white teen. Red rimmed eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and the shoulders hunched into an oversized hoodie said that the kid had probably been sobbing for a while by the time he’d startled them. 

“My phone died, and I got really lost, and the GPS had said that I would be arriving before midnight, and my grandma is probably really worried, but the fucking charger is broken—shit, sorry, language—but then I ran out of gas, and I got really scared to be out here and—Sorry! Sorry,” came the water-logged, rapid fire explanation.

“Scared to be out on the Rez?” he asked, unimpressed.

“I’m on the _Rez_? How did—? I am so fucking lost, holy… I couldn’t afford a plane ticket so it was either drive or not come, and I love my grandma, I do, but coming to visit fucking terrifies me, and tonight has been enough to almost make me wish I hadn’t come. Why are there _Confederate fucking flags_ in Wyoming?? I cannot deal with _murder-bigots_ saying shit about ‘Southern Pride’ when we’re practically in Canada! I’m not scared to be on the Rez, but I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but rural fricking Wyoming is a pretty _shitty_ place to be a _queer kid_ oh my god I am so sorry.” 

When the rant abruptly petered out, Mathias was left trying to figure out how to respond. The silence stretched awkwardly, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, there was another agonized, “I am so sorry.”

At something of a loss, he fished his phone out of his pocket and offered, “Do you want me to call your grandmother?”

“Yes please! Oh my god, that would be amazing, yes please. You want me to dial?”

He held out the phone, and it was gone for less than two seconds before it was thrust back into his hand. He was nonplussed, but seeing that it was already ringing, held it up to his ear.

“Quinn? Honey, is that you?” 

The voice on the other end of the line sounded like an older woman, and he could hear the worry in her voice.

“Everything’s fine,” he assured her, “Just a bit of car trouble—”

“Are they alright?” she broke in. “They were supposed to be here hours ago, and I’ve been worried sick.”

Mathias glanced into the backseat, but still only saw the driver in the car.

“Ma’am, I only see your grand—” This time, Mathias cut himself off, catching the look of abject misery on the teen’s face and how they seemed to be trying to disappear into the oversized hoodie. He started again.

“They’re fine. I’m here with your grand _child_ , and they’re a bit emotional, but they are fine. They got lost in the dark and ran out of gas. If it’s alright with you, I’ll drive them to you and you can arrange for a tow in the morning.”

The kid covered their face with their floppy sleeves and started to cry again, and Mathias winced, but turned his attention back to the phone when the grandmother answered.

“That would be wonderful, and very much appreciated. Let me give you my address,” she told him, and he put the call on speaker to punch it into an app for directions. After telling her that they would be there in about 20 minutes, he hung up and turned back to the car.

The kid reached around into the back seat and scrabbled for a moment before giving up and getting out to open the back door, wiping their face with their sleeve again.

“Sorry, the crying—I’m a mess, I know, but that was actually good crying, I promise,” they said, pulling a backpack from the back seat, and then reaching in again for a small duffle bag. “I never get gendered right by people I don’t know, much less fucking cops. Language—shit, sorry. ...Sorry.”

Mathias snorted and shook his head, telling them, “Don’t worry about it, kid. You have everything?”

At their nod, he led them over to the cruiser, and then had to stop them from getting in the back seat with their bags, chuckling again. The drive out to their grandmother’s house was mostly awkward small talk. Mathias learned that they were from Texas but were going to college in North Carolina, which they hated, that their grandmother had lived Durant “since the dinosaurs roamed the earth, probably,” that they were staying for two weeks for spring break, that their grandmother was “the actual best, no lie,” and that Quinn could talk nearly non-stop for twenty minutes with only minimal contributions from himself.

He pulled up in front of the neat little one story house with the front light on with a sense of profound relief, and Quinn turned to him in the front seat.

“Sorry for the motor-mouth routine. Tonight… tonight really sucked, but you’ve been really nice, and I really appreciate the help. And the ride. And… everything. So thanks,” they said haltingly.

Mathias smiled and jerked his head towards the house. “Come on, I’ll walk you up,” he told them, opening his door. As he opened the back door to grab their bags, he heard the house’s front door open.

“Nana!” Quinn cried, running into her arms and being pulled into a hard hug. Mathias followed at a more reasonable pace and when he stepped into the pool of light shining just past the porch, Quinn’s grandmother looked up.

“Mathias! Oh, bless you. Thank you for getting them here safe and sound,” Ms. Ruby Mason said, sounding surprised and relieved.

Mathias pulled up just short of the porch in his own surprise, and his smile widened.

Quinn’s head jerked up from Ms. Ruby’s shoulder, and they said, “Wait, Mathias? You’re _Cobbler Guy??_ Nana, you were right, he _is_ awesome.”

Ruby smothered a smile and shushed them, watching Mathias clear his throat and shift his weight, starting to colour. He stepped forward to put Quinn’s bags on the porch and nodded to Ms. Ruby.

“I’m glad to be of use, and that everyone was alright. Have a good night, Ruby. If you call in to the station tomorrow morning, they’ll be able to tell you to send the tow.” Turning to the teen who was still looking at him delightedly, he told them, “Have a good night, Quinn. You were right that your grandmother is ‘the actual best.’”

With that, he gave them both another nod and turned to go back to his car, thumbs hooking his belt loops. Out of the pool of the light, but still within earshot, he heard sound of fabric as the bags were retrieved, and then a whisper that carried far more than Quinn no doubt expected, “Oh my _god_ , Nana, you never said that Cobbler Guy is _smoking hot_. What the heck,” and then Ms. Ruby’s amused reply of, “Oh, didn’t I? I suppose I didn’t think you would ever know.”

Mathias was suddenly glad that he was a stone's throw away and in deep shadow. He was still accustomed to a light blush around Ms. Ruby, but now he felt it flame much darker, radiating heat along his cheeks and neck. As far as unexpected 2am police calls went, this might just end up being his favourite.


	2. Cobbler Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not familiar with John Mulaney, a) I am so sorry, b) I cordially invite you to become familiar with him [here](https://youtu.be/QnkrL42R7gk), as this is referenced in the fic. But if you don't want to, you won't be missing out on any plot, just an amusing reference to a truly wonderful comedy story.

Two weeks after he dropped the talkative teen off at Ruby’s house, Mathias had a few errands that took him into Durant around lunchtime. Knocking them out in short order, after putting the large package in the back of his cruiser that the post office hadn’t sent out to the Rez, he glanced at the time. He had a lot more time to spare than he’d expected, so with a mental shrug he found a parking place right in front of the Busy Bee. It had been a while since he had dropped off any cobbler for Ruby, and the memory of Quinn’s delighted, “ _Cobbler guy?_ ” made a warm feeling spread in his chest. Might as well live up to the nickname, since Ruby had apparently even told her grandkid about the tradition.

A quick stop in at the diner had the container of cobbler in hand, and he decided to leave his car where it was while he popped into Ruby’s office. The sheriff might work out of it, but there was no question in Mathias’ mind that it was Ruby’s office, and that the entire department would grind to a shambling halt without her there. Glancing around the parking spots near the stairs up to the office, it looked like he was in decent luck: neither the sheriff’s battered Bronco nor Deputy Moretti’s SUV were in sight. The fewer of Absaroka’s ‘finest’ that he had to deal with, the better his afternoon was likely to be.

The door at the top of the stairs had been left half open and he saw a flash of movement past it, accompanied by an odd rhythm of footsteps. Pushing the door the rest of the way open explained both. Quinn was wandering back and forth in front of Ruby’s desk in a tight circuit, tapping a galloping rhythm on their legs, while it looked like Ruby herself was straightening her desk in preparation to leave. Mathias could see The Ferg’s back at his desk around the corner, apparently doing his best to ignore the racket. When he stepped into the doorway, Quinn wheeled towards the door, cutting their most recent lap short. They beamed at him in happy surprise.

“Hi! Mathias! Or… Officer, um... I have no idea what your last name is.”

Mathias snorted and waved off their concern. “Mathias is fine.”

“Oh, cool.” They cocked their head at the arm he had tucked behind his back when he had pushed the door open, holding the cobbler container out of sight and their grin took on a mischievous mien. “Are you here to see Nana?”

Matthias cocked an eyebrow at them, catching sight of Ruby hiding a smile behind her desk as she tucked some papers into a drawer. Instead of answering and incriminating himself, he asked, “What are you doing here? I thought you were only here for two weeks?” 

Quinn’s resulting look made it very clear that they had noted the deflection and were magnanimously allowing him to get away with it. For now.

“I start driving back tomorrow, so Nana said that we could get lunch today. She took part of last week off so we could hang out, but they’re basically screwed without her, so I’ve been entertaining myself, and wanted to get as much time with her as I could before driving a million miles back to the college.”

Ruby finished tidying her desk while they were talking and set an enormous purse on the corner of it with a solid thump. Dropping a phone cord into the open top, she came around to stand next to Quinn, smiling at Mathias. “What brings you in, Mathias?”

Quinn’s mischievous smirk was back in an instant. “Yes, what _are_ you doing here? What’s behind your back? Is it… cobbler for Nana? It totally is, isn’t it.”

Caught out, Mathias slowly pulled the container from behind his back, oddly hesitant. He _knew_ that Ruby knew that he was the one who had left the cobbler on her desk over the past few years, but he had still always managed to do so while she was away from her desk before this. Having it out in the open left him feeling a bit exposed.

Quinn chuckled lowly in vindication, but Mathias’s attention was on Ruby. At the sight of the familiar container from the diner, her already welcoming smile warmed further and she looked impossibly fond. The lingering tension unwound from around his spine. With such a gratifying response, he didn’t mind being called out on this habit so much.

“Yes, you’re right, Quinn. I have some time before I need to be on duty, so I figured I could use the time to drop some by.”

“Haha, NO.”

Mathias blinked and pulled back in bewilderment, but Quinn carried on triumphantly, “We are all going to the Busy Bee for cobbler. Nana, get your purse!”

Ruby looked like she was considering it, but chided, “Sweetheart, you can’t just tell people that they’re going to lunch with us.” They swiveled a pleading gaze between their grandmother and Mathias. “But he just said that he had time! Please?” they asked, directing the last to him.

He caught Ruby’s gaze to check that she really was in favour of him joining them for lunch on their last day together. At her welcoming nod, he answered, “I suppose I could afford to stay in town for a bit longer.”

“Yessss!” Quinn cheered and went to collect Ruby’s purse. “I didn’t think I would get to see you again before I left, so this is great!” Ruby leaned around the corner and told Ferg that she would be back in about an hour so to mind the radio and the phone. She turned back just in time to see Quinn stagger slightly when they hauled the purse off the desk.

“Holy shhhh--oot. Holy shoot, Nana, what do you have in here? You really carry this around?” Ruby waved Mathias down the stairs before wrangling Quinn to follow him.

It was a short walk across the square and just around the corner to the diner and when they got there, Mathias stepped forward like he always did, and always would, to get the door for Ms. Ruby. At this, Quinn’s chipper grin stretched into something that Mathias mentally categorized as ‘shiteating,’ which they turned on their grandmother and started chortling alarmingly. He narrowed his eyes at this exchange, still holding the door open, since Quinn had stopped just shy of the door, effectively blocking the entrance.

“ _In_ , you menace.” Ruby swatted Quinn’s shoulder with her wallet, having left the intimidatingly large purse in the office in the end. They jumped through the doorway, still audibly amused. Ruby followed them with considerably more dignity and smiled at him as she passed him in the doorway. “Thank you, Mathias. Ever the gentleman.” Mathias found a smile of his own and followed her in, the bell on the door jangling as it finally swung shut.

Quinn stood only a little ways in and was looking intently at the jukebox near the register. “...Have you heard of John Mulaney?” they asked in such a nonchalant way that Mathias was immediately suspicious. Ruby clearly had, because her response was an immediate and firm, “Quinn, NO.” 

It was obvious to Mathias that he was missing something, but from the studied innocence on the teen’s face, and the impervious look on Ruby’s, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Quinn pushed their glasses up their nose and blinked in exaggerated confusion. “What? I was just going to—”

Ruby reached out and bodily turned them away from the jukebox, informing them in an implacable tone that took Mathias abruptly back to someone getting detention, “I will unplug it if you so much as get out a quarter.”

Not wanting to get in the middle of whatever this was or to encourage it, Mathias walked past both of them and asked, “Booth or counter?”

“BOOTH!”

Quinn practically skipped over one of the empty booths, but then hovered expectantly until both adults had taken their seats. Once they both had slid onto the benches, Quinn scooted in next to Ruby, squirming farther in until she scooted a bit farther, and Mathias realized that they were more or less sitting across from him.

They grinned brightly at him before flipping the laminated menu up to hide their face, and he glanced over at Ruby, still feeling slightly wrong-footed by the entire thing. Quinn pulling years of unspoken tradition out in the open and setting it on its ear somehow seemed to fit, but it was still something of an adjustment to make. Ruby was watching them both with a smile, and just gave a tiny shake of her head when she saw him glance at her.

Judy came over to their table with her order pad after just a moment of glancing at the familiar menus. “You’re back fast, Officer,” she noted, and he rolled a wry eye in agreement before she smiled at Ruby. “Always good to see you, Ruby. And how are you, young …”

She hesitated, and buoyant energy that had felt so alive at the table just a moment before curdled. ‘ _...young man ...young lady..._ ' Either option hung unspoken in the air, the hesitation hardly a respite. Mathias saw the teen’s shoulders start to hunch and their face shutter into a polite, lifeless half-smile. 

“Quinn,” he supplied into the awkward pause. Ruby picked up the vein seamlessly, setting a reassuring hand on their back, “They’re my grandchild from Texas. They’ve spent the past two weeks with me, but said that they couldn’t possibly head back to college tomorrow without coming by for some of your peach cobbler, first.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Quinn,” Judy said seriously. “Anybody who knows the value of a good cobbler is alright in my book. Now, are we having lunch today, or just going straight for the cobbler?”

As he and Ruby relayed their lunch orders, Mathias watched the tension leech out of Quinn’s shoulders. By the time it was their turn to order, a smile accompanied the request for extra pickles on their burger. Still, because he was looking for it, Mathias could see a slight tightness around their eyes, and even with the smile, a lingering air of weariness. It felt wrong for someone so terribly young to be so world-weary already, and for someone who usually vibrated with energy to be so subdued.

When Judy went to give their orders to the kitchen, Quinn deflated some and scrubbed a hand roughly over their face, shoving their glasses up into their hair. The frames matched the dyed teal almost perfectly and nearly disappeared in the unruly curls.

“Thanks. I know it’s just how people are taught to be polite, and that they’re trying to be nice, and it’s not their fault or anything, but the automatic gendering that happens all day every day is… exhausting. And honestly, a lot of the time I just don’t have the energy to, like, try to explain to somebody who has probably never even heard of non-binary genders even the basic “not a boy, not a girl” thing. Which usually means just sucking it up when I get misgendered, which, uh, _sucks_. So. Thanks. For…” they waved vaguely at the middle of the table, “...so I didn’t have to, or feel guilty for not.”

They dropped their glasses back into place before tilting their head over onto Ruby’s shoulder and looking down at the table. Ruby rubbed their back and turned her head to keep their hair out of most of her face. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“So,” Mathias said after a few moments. “Did you two do anything interesting these past two weeks?” To his relief, the question perked the listless teen right up. They popped back upright and bounced on the bench.

“We went skydiving!”

“You _what?!_ ” Mathias managed before Quinn broke into peals of laughter and he was reassured by Ruby’s droll, “No, we did not. For pity’s sake.” Quinn started to slide off the bench in their waning hilarity, and they gasped out, “Your _faaaace!_ Holy shit, your face was _priceless_ —shit, sorry, ‘language.’”

“Language,” Ruby chided, her voice in chorus with theirs on the last word. She shook her head, but looked amused. “Nothing quite that dramatic, but we did drive to Denver last weekend to see a play and visited some art galleries. They’re quite a fine artist themself, so I wouldn’t be surprised to see their work in one of the galleries soon enough!”

“Nanaaaa,” they complained, clearly pleased and embarrassed with the praise.

When Judy brought their food, Quinn was showing pictures of their first semester’s studio work to Mathias on their phone, looking truly happy and relaxed again. After tucking their phone back into a pocket of their leather jacket, Quinn made grabby hands at the napkin dispenser. Ruby had her hands full with a plate but Mathias just looked back at them stone faced until they said, “Please?” before handing over a few napkins.

Once they all had started in on their lunches, Quinn broke the companionable silence again.

“So what was Nana like back when she was teaching?” they asked through a partially full mouth, mercifully shielding most of their mouth from view with a hand as they talked.

“Quinn, _manners_ , honestly. You’d think you were raised by wolves. At least pretend like you have the sense God gave a chicken and don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Finally swallowing, Quinn nodded sheepishly and muttered, “Right, right, sorry,” before turning their inquisitive gaze back on Mathias expectantly.

He pointedly finished his bite and dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin before replying, earning him a smothered smile from Ruby and an eye roll and reluctant smirk from Quinn.

“She was something of a universal favourite, to tell the truth. I think by the time they graduated just about every student at Durant High took some class or other with her in my day. Between tutoring, drivers ed, typing, music lessons, and I don’t even know what else, Ms. Ruby made an impact on a lot of students. Strict but fair. She kept us on the straight and narrow.”

“The straight and narrow, indeed,” Ruby scoffed lightly, nevertheless looking rather touched. She turned conspiratorially to Quinn. “Don’t let him fool you. He managed to stir up enough trouble whatever he says. You should ask him about Coach Sanborn’s car.”

Mathias felt his jaw drop slightly. “You _knew?_ That that was me? Or, us?”

She fixed him with an arch look. “Of course I knew. You used the same typewriter for the note that you always used in class, and you remain one of the only students that I ever had to reliably double space after a period.”

“They never caught us, though! Or anybody. You never…” Mathias trailed off, overwhelmed with unexpected nostalgic gratitude and a vague sense of awe. Ruby cut her meatloaf into bites perfunctorily.

“Coach Sanborn was a bigot and a bully. I certainly had no irrepressible urge to point his ire at anyone. Besides, he was gone by the end of that year for inappropriate behavior with Principal Mitchell’s wife.”

Mathias stared at her. “You’re kidding. That’s why he wasn’t back my senior year? There were all sorts of rumors, but that—” he stopped himself, taken aback by his interest in decades old gossip.

“Ok, but _what about the car?!_ ” Quinn demanded. “Come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like that; it sounds epic!”

Mathias leaned back in the booth, relishing Ruby’s amusement and Quinn’s rapt expectation, letting the moment drag out until Quinn was practically vibrating.

“Well,” he started, and Quinn hummed in excitement. The tale of how he and five other Cheyenne boys had completely dismantled Coach Sanborn’s bright blue VW Beetle and then put it together again, on its side, _around the flagpole_ , took them through most of the meal. Rigging a pulley to lower the doors in such a way that the flagpole was through the windows and it was impossible to get the car back off of the flagpole had been his idea, and it was deeply fulfilling to be able to relate this triumph to such an appreciative audience. The taunting note that they had left under the wiper on the sideways windshield had also been his idea. While she had apparently pegged him as one of the ones responsible, Ruby hadn’t known the how, and between her occasional impressed comment and Quinn’s spirited responses, Mathias very much enjoyed telling the story.

After Mathias had wrapped up the account with satisfaction, at Ruby’s prompting, Quinn launched into their own anecdote. Ruby got a warm up of her coffee as they regaled them both with how someone in their dorm had dumped leftover dry ice in a toilet after the floor’s Halloween party and the fire department was called and everyone had been evacuated to the parking lot in their costumes or various states of undress. It was an animated retelling, replete with exaggerated imitations of some of their dorm mates and a particularly unamused fireman, lots of gesticulations, and a sketch on the back of a napkin of a two person slinky dog toy costume. This, courtesy of a tangent when an aghast Quinn found out that Mathias had never seen any of the Toy Story movies.

Eventually, having exhausted the details of that incident, Quinn shoved the last of their fries into their mouth and then slid to the edge of the bench, saying through a mostly full mouth, “‘Scuse me, I’m going to make use of theh faciliteehs,” putting on a frankly terrible British accent for the last words. They finally swallowed, hardly having seemed to chew at all and then said walking backwards for a moment, “Promise you won’t tell any cool stories until I get back!” before clipping their hip on one of the counter stools and swinging back around to face front.

“Language!” Ruby called after them, despite Mathias not having heard a curse.

“Sorry, Nana _bat-ears!_ ” they called back, rounding the corner to the bathrooms.

Mathias sat back, enjoying the quiet for a moment. He shared a speaking look with Ruby that seemed to communicate a beleaguered, ‘ _Teenagers._ ’ The sense of communion in that fond weariness made him feel like the stretch of years from when he had first met Ms. Ruby Taylor was incredibly vast. Had he ever truly been that irrepressible, that bright eyed, that… young?

“Have teenagers always been that…” he trailed off, trying to come up with a suitable encompassing word.

“Charmingly exhausting?” she offered. 

“Sure. That works as well as anything,” he replied with a laugh.

She hummed, chasing the last of her green beans with her fork. “Quinn can fly off in all directions at once more than most tend to, but there’s still just one of them. Think about what a classroom with 16 of you was like when half of you didn’t want to be there, and at least one young man was determined to take apart the equipment.”

Mathias made a horrified noise, and then supplied, “David Anderson,” remembering suddenly the chaos of the afternoon that David had finally managed to remove the ribbon from the typewriter and decided to use it to wrap Susan Waters up like a pulp fiction mummy.

“That boy,” Ruby said, shaking her head with an exasperation that had lingered for more than 30 years. “Teenagers have always found a way to make dealing with them some kind of adventure or other. Not all of them were quite so dedicated to typing, or to their typing teacher,” she said with a gently fond smile.

Mathias had known for years that she must have known about his boyhood crush on her; there had been no way that she could have missed his fourteen year old self mooning after her. But there was still a difference between knowing and _knowing_ , and he felt a brief wave of a mild sort of embarrassed torment to have Ms. Ruby confirm that she had been aware of his young pining. He ducked his head, leaning his forearms on the table and fighting the perennial blush.

“I hope I wasn’t—“

“Oh no,” she reassured him, reaching out to pat his wrist before he dug himself into too deep of a hole. “You were never any sort of problem, truly. You were very sweet, and so very careful to always be respectful and polite, never inappropriate. Honestly, it was really quite charming and rather flattering. You have no reason to regret anything on my account. You were a wonderful young man that I was pleased to know.” She squeezed his wrist gently until he looked up to meet her gaze. “And you have grown into a good man that I am proud to know. I’m so very glad to count you among my friends now.”

He swallowed thickly and covered her hand on his wrist with his own, feeling the swell of emotion prick at his eyes. Her own eyes were a bit shiny and she gave his wrist one last squeeze before reaching out for her mug of coffee.

“Noooo, you promised not to tell any stories before I got back!” Quinn complained, skidding back up to the table and thoroughly breaking the moment.

“No we didn’t,” Mathias rebutted, clearing his throat before smirking at the teen. They opened their mouth to object, but were stumped because technically neither of the adults had, and flopped back onto their seat with the beginnings of a sulk.

“Boo. You may be right, but you suck,” they said, sticking their tongue out at him. Ruby sighed pointedly, and Quinn relented sheepishly. 

“Ok, you don’t suck. Sorry. You’re actually pretty cool. Anyway, it’s _cobbler time!_ ” they crowed, turning to wave at Judy behind the counter. Ruby caught Mathias’ eye and he bit back a smile at the moment of shared indulgent exasperation. 

A few moments later, Judy was back at the table, balancing the third plate of cobbler on her wrist with the ease of decades of practice and Ruby waved off her offer of another warmup of her coffee. Despite the years that he had been dropping cobbler off on Ruby’s desk, Mathias wasn’t much of one for sweets, so the first forkful of cobbler took him straight back to that afternoon as a jaded teenager and he realized that they were even sitting in the same booth.

He hummed in surprise around the bite, and Ruby chuckled. “Judy hasn’t changed the recipe a bit. It’s still just like Maude used to make it.” Quinn was looking at him when he opened his eyes and quickly shoveled an overlarge bite into their mouth. Mathias raised an unimpressed eyebrow and they flushed slightly, skating their fork through the syrupy peach filling.

Finishing their bite before talking this time, Quinn waved their sticky fork in Mathias’ direction. “So, did you pull any other epic pranks? What were you like in school? Was it, like, 80s punk rock stuff?” they asked with mounting enthusiasm. Mathias had just taken a bite, and cleared his throat pointedly, not rushing the mouthful to answer. To his surprise, Ruby answered for him.

“We didn’t really have much in the way of punk rock the way you’re thinking out here, I’m afraid. Not so much with leather jackets and dyed hair, but we certainly had our disaffected youth. As bad as things can be for young people on the Rez now, it was worse then. Still, while Mathias may have had the odd scrap,” she said to Quinn’s wide-eyed interest, “he at least managed to avoid getting caught.” They turned to see Mathias’ reaction to this, and he took another bite without responding, an ‘I can neither confirm nor deny’ smile taking up residence on his face. Quinn giggled conspiratorially, taking another bite of their own.

“He was something of a track star, though. Varsity for three years, made it to regionals two years, and would have gone to state your senior year if the school had been able to provide transportation, if I remember correctly?” Ruby said, the last directed to Mathias for confirmation. Mathias nodded, somewhat taken aback that she had followed his track exploits, much less remembered them now. She used the back of her fork to pick up some of the crumbles of crust left on her plate and shot him a look. “Don’t look so surprised. I like to keep up with how my kids are doing.”

This time he didn’t blush, but Mathias felt the bloom of emotion spread in his chest, her apparent fondness for him warming him. She had been his Ms. Ruby in a way for years, long after his teenage crush had matured into an enduring affection, and having her call him one of her kids was like closing the circuit; a shared quiet, platonic love quite unlike anything else he’d experienced. Friends of the dearest and surest sort. She smiled and he smiled and Quinn scraped their fork along their plate to get the last of the peach filling, the metal screeching.

They stopped when both of the adults turned to look at them, aggrieved. “Sorry,” they muttered, popping the fork into their mouth to get every last bit of peach they could.

“And on that note,” Ruby announced, “I think we have stretched a lunch break out as much as we can reasonably justify.” Quinn slumped forlornly which gave Mathias the chance to slip out of the booth before Ruby could, and he made his way up to the register quickly, pulling out his wallet. By the time she had managed to prod her grandchild towards the front of the diner, Ruby was in time to see him signing the receipt.

“My treat, this time,” he said, responding to her disapproving look. “I figured that I owed you from last time.” Her expression softened and she said, “No such thing. But thank you, nevertheless.” Quinn was grinning at both of them and rocking on their heels. When Mathias held open the door, they tripped slightly on their way past him and their face flooded a splotchy dark red before they were out the door, turning the trip into an odd skipping gait.

He had an odd moment where suddenly various little pieces clicked into place in his head and… he turned to Ruby to find her watching him, a tiny smile on her face. He was certain that his own expression was as flummoxed as he felt. The blushing, hiding behind the menu, teasing to get a rise out of him, the occasional moments he’d caught them staring, the comment two weeks ago… all of it pointed to Quinn having a crush. On him. He blinked at Ruby, utterly sure that she saw it too; had seen it before he had, in fact.

She followed Quinn outside, giving Mathias’ shoulder a reassuring pat on the way. “ _Honestly, it was really quite charming and rather flattering,_ ” he remembered her telling him not twenty minutes before. Realizing he was still standing holding the door open when they had both gone out, he stepped through and let it jangle shut behind him. Ruby caught his eye, and he cut a little smile back at her as Quinn skipped back to them. 

Their face had lost most of its dark blush, but they were so pale that some vestiges of it still mottled their cheeks. They smiled sunnily at him in spite of the recent embarrassment. Quinn clearly had no intention of anything beyond being a rambunctious teen and perhaps mooning after him a bit, and he allowed himself to admit in the privacy of his own mind that it was actually quite charming and rather flattering. It also reassured him that Ruby hadn’t just been sparing his feelings earlier; it was harmless and wasn’t any sort of imposition, and he felt some lingering unease settle.

“That’s my car,” Mathias said, pointing at the cruiser he’d left in front of the diner. Quinn’s face fell a little, knowing that they were to the goodbyes. “Thank you for lunch, and for the cobbler,” they said sincerely. “I’m glad I got to see you again before leaving. I know I said it the other night, but thanks for getting me to Nana’s too.” They leaned into Ruby’s side and she put her arm around their shoulder, adding her own thanks. “It was such a relief when you turned up with this one. Thank you for another lovely meal, Mathias.” Letting go of Quinn briefly, she leaned up and pressed a grandmotherly kiss to his cheek. Mathias felt his eyes crinkle with his smile.

“It was my pleasure,” he assured them both before turning his attention to Quinn. “Drive safe tomorrow, and keep a better eye on your gas gauge, alright? Did you get a new phone charger?”

“Yes!” they chirped. “Nana has it in her purse, and I’m packing it as soon as we get to her place, promise. I’ll be careful, and call her when I’ve stopped for the night. No more running out of gas. Ever. Once was way more than enough. Even if it did mean that I got to meet you,” they said before the tops of their ears started to go red again. Mathias snorted lightly, opening the car door. “Glad to hear it. Alright. Enjoy the rest of your day with each other,” he finished, getting into the car as they agreed and waved their goodbyes. 

He started the car and waited to see them in the rearview mirror start to make their way back to the station before pulling out of the parking space. Quinn had an arm around Ruby’s waist and she had her arm around their shoulder when he drove past and returned their last waves. The drive back out to the Rez felt shorter after a good meal and better company. His good mood carried through the rest of the day, and he found himself looking forward to the next opportunity to drop in on Ruby and ask how her grandkid was doing.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted something where Mathias could sort of save the day in a way similar to how Ruby did in [Every Page...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086179), and suddenly Ruby had a much-loved queer disaster grandkid who was in trouble. 
> 
> Part of this was inspired by memories of having to drive across Colorado, Kansas, Kentucky and other not-terribly-queer-friendly states two weeks after the 2016 election as a visibly queer person and being frankly terrified. (I'm non-binary, though past my teens.)
> 
> Ruby remains the actual best, and that absolutely means supporting their non-binary disaster of a grandkid.


End file.
